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“Not as much as me.” He kissed her, long and deep, before he led her to the deck.
“I’m not sitting on that damn sofa. I’ll light it on fire.”
His wife was dramatic. “The deck then.”
“Fine. Is the addition done on the tavern?”
After Liam took control of the tavern, he started making changes; business went crazy, so much so, he needed to build onto the back. He owned it outright, was written up for the best burgers in Wyoming. “Almost. Holding off the unveiling until you’re able to go.”
Cedar smiled, but it didn’t last because, despite what was going on with the tavern, something was up with Liam. Couldn’t get him to talk about it, always slipping back into the carefree Liam. He’d lost Natalie, who married Ron and was expecting their first kid.
“Still won’t talk about it,” she said. “I’m going to have to work on that.”
“First, you’re going to sit down.”
“So bossy.”
He got her settled and started for the door when she grabbed his hand. “Thank you for this life,” she whispered, her eyes lifted to him. “Thank you for the dream.”
He didn’t answer, well, not with words.
Cedar
I stood inthe hallway and looked at the new photos on the wall: Killian and me on our wedding day, at the opening of Cupcake, with Liam at the tavern, the birth of Sage, a few with Brock, Sage on his shoulders, her godfather. He loved her, was so good with her. I thought Killian would have a problem with it, but he surprised me. I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised because everything Killian did, he did for the love of his family.
There was a new wall I started. Pictures of Killian, the one I took outside the station that day, the one of him on his horse, another of him and Sage. There wasn’t enough wall space, but that didn’t stop me from taking his picture.
My hand rested on my belly as I walked to the nursery. My eyes burned every time I came in here. I’d never forget the look on Brock’s face when he saw it. Killian and Graham had fashioned our childhood, a fort, a tree because of my penchant for climbing them, there was even a turkey. Flowers were painted on the walls…he hadn’t just accepted Brock; he’d brought him into the family. Not that we saw Brock much. I wanted him closer, but his life was in New York. I hoped, one day, he’d move here, share at least part of the dream.
Walking into the living room, my heart swelled seeing Killian on the sofa, Sage pressed up against him holding Lucifer, the dogs on the floor, all of them sleeping. I leaned against the wall and stared my fill. It had been a long, difficult journey to get here; I’d lost so much, and, at times, life knocked me down so hard, I didn’t want to get back up. But it was always brighter after the storm, if you had the strength to weather it. I’d never have to weather it alone again, would never have to worry about Killian pushing me away or letting me go. He’d hold me closer, turning me away from the storm, because that’s who he was, that’s how he loved.
Blue eyes watched me from the sofa; his palm lifted in invitation. I crossed the room, took his hand, his closed tightly around mine. Those intense blue eyes burned with love. He knew what I was thinking, and he was comforting me in that quiet way of his, saying, without words, what I already knew, but never tired of hearing. Whatever happened, whatever came, we were in it together, because he would never let go.
Down in thevalley, and in the woods, a turkey stepped into the clearing, looked around, pecked at a pebble he thought was a walnut, gobbled once then sank back into the cover of the trees.
